


Beauty Without Radioactivity

by minkowski



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7941127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkowski/pseuds/minkowski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel Jacobi celebrates an anniversary. Again. This time, it's in space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty Without Radioactivity

 

“It’s the anniversary, isn’t it?”

Daniel Jacobi kept his gaze trained on the blue star. He didn’t need to turn around to know who that voice belonged to. “What anniversary?”

Colonel Kepler snorted, walking nearer Jacobi. “You want to play dumb, Mr. Jacobi?”

Jacobi could see Kepler looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t need to give Kepler the satisfaction of looking first. “Fine. It’s the anniversary.”

Kepler pulled a flask out of his pocket and took a swig. “How do you feel?”

Jacobi let out a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t know. How are you supposed to feel? Hey, it’s the anniversary of the first time I blew up a human being! You think they sell cards for that?”

“I think Commander Minkowski’s got a cake waiting in the break room.”

“Ha, ha.”

There was a brief pause during which both men stared out of the window. Jacobi watched the swirling of the star, so bright it made his eyes water. It was an almost unnatural shade of blue, the sort you’d find in a candy store, not on a deep-space mission.

Kepler cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I’m surprised to see you moping around.” There was a slight edge to his voice that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago, implying that  _ maybe _ Jacobi should be doing his job instead of staring at a star. “Besides, this guilt thing is a little new for you, isn’t it? You’ve blown up a good few people, places, and plant monsters since then.”

Jacobi grunted.

“I mean, we’d have to get you a card for every day of the year.”

Allowing himself a small laugh, Jacobi shrugged his broad shoulders. “I guess…it’s just, you know. The first time. I’m not sure if you really ever —” He shrugged again, unsure of what he was trying to say.

To Jacobi’s surprise, Kepler nodded. “Know what you mean.” He took another drink from the flask. “Did I ever tell you about the Solo Incident?”

Inwardly, Jacobi sighed. This wasn’t what he needed, right now, but, looking back, it was what he should have anticipated. When did Kepler ever approach him alone, other than to tell some long-winded story? “No, Colonel. I don’t believe you have.”

“Well,” began Kepler, a familiar reminiscent smile creeping across his face, “it happened around the time I got out of high school. I knew this guy. A good guy. He was always talking about  _ Star Wars, _ so we called him Solo. We made fun of him a lot, but like I said, he was a good guy.”

He paused, absentmindedly turning his flask over and over in his hands. After a few long moments, he continued.

“We got close the summer before we went off to college. His father was a military man, and had a few guns lying around the house. And, well, me and Solo were goofing off somewhere, playing around with a couple of guns, and, well, we thought we had it under control, and—” Kepler mimed a gunshot to Jacobi’s forehead. “Right between the eyes. Bled out right then and there.”

Jacobi gazed at Kepler, transfixed. The story wouldn’t have been so horrible if Kepler hadn’t been telling it in the same reminiscent way he told all his stories.

“It wouldn’t have been so awful, but nineteen years old—well, you know. So the next year, on the day, I decided to do something else. Something so crazy, I’d forget all about it.”

Kepler paused for a long time, until Jacobi wondered if he’d forgotten he was talking. (It wouldn’t be the first time.) Then, abruptly, as if someone had flipped a switch, he began again.

“So what I do is I leave the country. Without telling anyone, I go, and I get all the money I can out of my bank account, and I get on the first plane to Argentina. Went there, stayed a week, then went back to the U.S.” He drummed his fingers on the glass separating them from the star, apparently lost in thought. “So now, that day, it’s not the anniversary of the Solo Incident, it’s the anniversary of the Argentinian Incident. It’s not the most godawful thing I’d done up to that point, it’s the day I did something out of the ordinary.”

Jacobi waited almost a full minute to ensure that Kepler was done speaking. “Wow. That’s…I mean, wow.”

Kepler stared out the window, back straight as ever, showing no signs of vulnerability. “Eloquent as always, Mr. Jacobi.”

“I—” Jacobi shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? Like I said, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But—” Jacobi hesitated. “Look, Colonel Kepler, I don’t mean any offense, but you’re saying that to forget the whole—anniversary thing, I should do something life-changing?”

“Worked for me.”

“Well, sir, I mean, today’s also the anniversary of the day you dropped off that Goddard Futuristics business card. Can’t get much more life-changing than that.”

“Ah.” Kepler considered this, chuckling to himself. “I suppose you’re right, Mr. Jacobi. Today, you’ll just have to do something else.”

Jacobi raised his eyebrows. “Sir, no offense, but there’s not exactly a whole lot to do on the Hephaestus.”

Kepler tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You’ll find something. You always do.”

“Create a small detonation in Hilbert’s lab?”

“That’s the spirit.” 

The two men laughed for several seconds, then fell silent. The star pulsed mutely outside the window.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kepler said quietly.  The cerulean light flickered over his face like sunlight at the bottom of a swimming pool. An odd emotion rushed through Jacobi, something resembling homesickness.

“Yep. And radioactive,” he said, praying that the emotion would dissipate. Why was he like this today?

A smile crossed Kepler’s face. “Well, what’s beauty without a little radioactivity?” He unscrewed the top of his flask and took another long drink, tilting his head back.

Jacobi nodded at the flask. “What’re you drinking?”

Kepler smirked, adopting a surprisingly accurate impression of a drunken, long-ago Jacobi. “Booze.”

Despite himself, Jacobi laughed. “Icy booze?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’d have to ask Hilbert to make some, and honestly, I don’t think we’re on good enough terms for him to act as my bartender.”

“Fair enough.” A thought crossed Jacobi’s mind, and he frowned. “You’re dipping into your supply? How much do you have left?”

Kepler grinned. “Not a whole lot, but, well—might as well celebrate the anniversary, eh? I’d offer you some, but…

Jacobi finished the thought. “But I probably shouldn’t fall back off the wagon in deep space.” Although it was on days like these when there was nothing he wanted more than to break into Kepler’s stash.

Seeming to recognize that something in Jacobi’s demeanor had switched, Kepler gazed more closely at him. “Feeling all right, Mr. Jacobi?”

“Fine. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Jacobi remembered suddenly that he was talking to a superior officer, and felt a rush of embarrassment at his angst-ridden stargazing. What was he, twelve? “Colonel, I appreciate you coming to check in, but you don’t need to stay to make sure I don’t throw myself out the airlock or anything. I really am okay.”

Kepler shrugged. “What else am I doing?” He paused. “You really should do something today. Get your mind off of it.”

Jacobi nodded, remembering that he was, in fact, an officer on a broken-ass space station with about a thousand elements that needed repairs. “Right. You’re right. I can go help Maxwell down in engineering.”

A smile quirked up the corners of Kepler’s lips. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you—”

Jacobi’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. There was something in Kepler’s smile, something in the way he was looking at Jacobi, something in the way the blue light of Wolf 359 flickered over his face that made Jacobi want to bolt. 

And then, before Jacobi could do anything, Kepler kissed him. It was fast, so fast Jacobi would have thought he imagined it if, two seconds later, he didn’t return the kiss.

They kissed more slowly this time. Kepler put his hand on Jacobi’s back, and Jacobi marveled at the gentleness of his touch. He closed his eyes, and it was as if the inside of his eyelids had been painted a searing, vivid cerulean, and buckets and buckets of light were pouring over them—

And Kepler pulled away, and he was smiling, and Jacobi was, once again, filled with the urge to run away. Or blow himself up. Or kiss Kepler again.

Jacobi managed to pull himself out of his daze long enough to hear Kepler, who was still grinning widely, looking only slightly less punch-drunk than Jacobi felt. “You know, this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless.”

“Colonel Kepler—” Jacobi struggled for something witty to say, something sarcastic, something that would defuse the situation and remind him to stop acting like an idiot, but he came up empty.

Kepler was still grinning. “Don’t strain yourself, smartass.” He bumped Jacobi’s shoulder with his own, then turned to walk away. “Happy anniversary, Daniel.”

Jacobi watched Kepler make his way down the hallway, then turn a corner and disappear from sight. He turned back to the star and let the light wash over him, feeling as though he had just woken from a very long, very confusing dream.

“Happy anniversary,” he muttered to himself. His voice sounded oddly distant. “Happy anniversary,” he repeated, and a smile crept across his face. For once, it didn’t sound sarcastic.

**Author's Note:**

> i have the biggest fucking weakness for kepler calling jacobi by his first name ok
> 
> also my whole experience writing this was just??  
> kepler: shows emotion  
> me, instantly deleting everything i’ve just written: too ooc
> 
> so yeah it might be a little ooc but it is what it is


End file.
